AllFreeNovel
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“It’s been twenty-four hours since I’ve eaten it,” I joke as I take the rest of my original sandwich and find the will to eat it. How does one go back to monotony when you’ve had something that good?
“Why do you eat it every day?” he asks. “I’m just curious.”
“A trauma response to poverty,” I admit. I choke down the sandwich and wash it down with a can of generic root beer I bought that’s fine, but not amazing.
Jackson’s forehead creases around his eyebrows.
“You don’t like to spend money?”
I shake my head. “It gives me anxiety. Like a lot.” I don’t mention that handing over my card at the grocery store always feels like agony.
“You bought me coffee, though.”
I nod. “I like to spend my money on other people. I hoped it would make you feel good, so I did it.” I open my chips and offer him one.
He stares at my chips. “Are you sure?”
“It’s the least I can do because my peanut butter and jelly does not equal your delicious masterpiece.”
He plucks a chip and crunches down. His eyes expand in delight. “Damn. It’s also been a little bit since I’ve had a salt and vinegar chip.”
“They’re the best,” I say.
“Far superior to any other chip.”
My hand freezes in the bag. “Thank you for sharing your sandwich.”
“Thank you for sharing yours.”
He bites into his remaining half, chewing and avoiding my eye contact. I study him, instead of studying my favorite tree.
“Why did you join me?” I ask, propping my elbow onto the table. “I’m definitely not complaining.”
A slight smile crosses his lips. “Wanted company.”
I look down so he doesn’t see my goofy smile. “Did you have a good time at karaoke?”
“It was nice.” He gives a rigid finger point. “I did not sing. Still, I had a good time. It was long overdue to get out with my siblings. It had been a while.”
“I miss my sister so much.”
“Where does she live?”
“Sacramento. Near McKinley Park.”
“The homes are nice around there.”
“Definitely,” I say. “I lived with her for a little bit.”
“Why did you move here?”
“My grandfather. He had the stroke, and my mom works a lot, so I offered to go.”And to get away from Mark.
I study Jackson. He looks happier, lighter. His eyes aren’t as red, and his skin is pink instead of tinged gray when I first met him. His smile used to look like it hurt; now it breaks naturally. His beard is slightly trimmed back.
“You look good,” I say.
“Yeah, I’m going on walks now. With dogs. It’s been good for me.”
